Eileen Ridge’s manner changed instantly from Message Fielder to Action Woman. ‘Are you in custody at present, Mr Miller?’ she asked him crisply. ‘Do you need us to get in touch with a San Francisco lawyer on your behalf?’
‘No, I don’t need you to get me a damned lawyer,’ Nick snapped.
Mrs Ridge remained silent.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said, embarrassed. ‘I’m just upset.’
‘That’s perfectly all right, Mr Miller.’
‘The only person I need you to get in touch with on my behalf is Richard Bourne,’ Nick said. ‘Just please pass on my message to him – can you do that for me?’
‘Of course I can.’
Eileen Ridge was right, of course. He did need a lawyer. That was what he’d promised Nina last evening on the phone. That in the absence of anyone better, he would give Chris Field another call and bring him up to speed. Nina had told him that she and Zoë were coming home, but that she hoped he would put his new troubles in Field’s hands before they got back. Nick had wanted to put it off, had said that all he wanted was to go to the airport and fetch his family, but Nina had been insistent that he get professional advice as soon as possible.
‘You’ve waited long enough,’ she’d said.
‘Then surely a few hours more won’t make much difference,’ Nick had tried to convince her.
‘Michael Levine still swears by Field.’
‘Okay. I’ll call him.’
‘First thing?’ Nina had pressed him. ‘We’ll catch a cab from the airport. I’d rather you were onto this, Nick.’
So he’d promised.
Nina and Zoë arrived back in Antonia Street just after six, after Nick had spent two hours with the frosty-eyed, waspish young attorney.
‘What did he say?’ Nina asked as soon as they came through the door, giving Nick the baby to hold but offering him nothing warmer than her own cheek to kiss.
‘All the right things, I guess.’ Nick held Zoë close, smelt her dirty nappy and was grateful even for that.
‘But?’
Nina stayed where she was in the hall, made no move to go through into the kitchen or living room, either to grab some coffee or to sit down and relax, as she would ordinarily do. She seemed to be wearing the same blue jeans, white cotton blouse, navy blazer and loafers she’d left in last Friday though they looked as crisp as if they’d all been freshly cleaned. Nina almost always looked perfectly turned out, no matter what she was going through.
Nick answered her question.
‘I told him that I’m sure Holly Bourne is behind everything that’s been happening to us, including Phoebe’s fall. I told him I’ve confronted her father with my suspicions. I told him that I’ve informed the Personal Crimes inspectors about Holly and the past, and that I want him to check her out for me. Field said that he wished I hadn’t gone to see Bourne, that I should never talk to the cops again unless he’s with me, and he advises me to stay away from the whole Bourne family from now on.’
‘Is he going to check Holly out?’ Nina asked.
‘I don’t know. I didn’t push it.’
‘Why not?’
‘I still don’t think he really believes me.’
‘Is that what he said?’
‘No, of course not. It’s just the feeling he gave me.’
‘Isn’t that the way all defence lawyers are with their clients?’ Nina said. ‘Surely it doesn’t really matter if they believe you or not, so long as they can make other people believe you’re innocent?’
Nick stared at her, startled. ‘It matters to me whether my own lawyer believes me or not. It matters a hell of a lot.’
Nina nodded slowly. ‘Then I suppose you’d better find someone else.’ She held out her arms for Zoë. ‘I’m going to put her down for a while.’
‘I can do that.’
‘I’d rather do it myself.’
Nick gave her the baby and watched her walk towards the staircase.
‘Nina, what’s going on?’ he said.
‘What do you mean?’ She did not turn around.
‘I mean, you’ve come home, but it feels like you’re not here.’
‘I’m here.’ She started up the stairs.
‘Nina.’ His voice was sharper with apprehension.
She stopped on the third tread. ‘Yes?’
‘You do believe me, don’t you? You do know I’d never hurt Phoebe?’
‘Yes, of course I believe that.’ Still she didn’t turn around to face him. ‘I think it’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard.’
‘And what about Holly?’ Nick’s heart was pumping too fast. ‘Do you believe I may be right about her?’
‘I don’t know Holly.’
And she went on carrying their daughter up the stairs.
William telephoned while Nina was bathing Zoë. Given no choice but to speak to Nick, he answered questions about Phoebe cursorily and with minimal politeness.
‘Please tell my daughter that I’ll be flying in tomorrow.’
‘You’re coming to San Francisco?’ Nick was surprised, given that Ford had hardly left Phoebe’s side since the accident.
‘I am.’ He offered nothing further.
‘Will you be staying with us?’ It was an effort, but for Nina’s sake Nick was prepared to stay courteous.
‘I don’t think so.’ William paused. ‘Ask Nina to call me, please.’
‘Of course,’ Nick said.
He went upstairs to the nursery. Nina was bent over the baby bath, supporting Zoë with one arm, rinsing her gently with her free hand.
‘Your father called,’ he said. ‘Did you know he was planning on coming to San Francisco tomorrow?’
‘No.’ Nina remained focused on the baby, who was kicking her legs. Zoë had liked warm water from day one at home.
‘He is. He wants you to call him.’
‘Does he want to stay here?’
‘I asked him. He said he didn’t think so. He wasn’t very communicative.’
‘I’ll call him.’
Nick looked at her. ‘You don’t seem surprised that he’s coming.’
‘I’m not, especially.’
‘I thought he wouldn’t want to leave Phoebe.’
Nina lifted Zoë out of the bath and rested her on the pink towel laid out on the changing table. ‘He’s concerned about me too.’ She patted the baby gently, then wrapped the towel snugly around her and was rewarded by delicious cooing sounds.
Nick leaned against the door frame. ‘I gather you told him about the cops hauling me in.’
‘He asked me what was wrong. I wasn’t going to lie. I hate lies.’
‘I’ve never lied to you, Nina.’
‘Maybe not,’ she said. ‘But you haven’t exactly shared the whole truth either, have you?’
She shook baby powder onto the palm of her left hand and patted it gently over the baby’s body. The pleasure sounds continued, and Zoë’s little arms waved. Nick felt one of those powerful rushes of love that sometimes made him go weak at the knees. This evening it made him feel like crying.
‘So your father’s coming here to protect you,’ he said, quietly.
‘Don’t be silly.’ Nina looked up at last. ‘That’s not true, Nick.’
‘What else have you told him?’ Nick asked.
‘As little as possible,’ she answered.
Chapter Fifty
William checked in at The Fairmont, presumably, Nick surmised, as an unspoken statement that he didn’t care to stay with his son-in-law. Which made little sense, given that his intention was clearly to spend most of the time he was in the city at their house.
For the first several hours after his arrival on Friday, he was ensconced in the living room with Nina, grilling her for information about her husband’s relationship with the San Francisco police. Once or twice Nick, who had been painting in his studio and keeping an eye on Zoë, wandered into the room, was rewarded with a poker-faced look from his father-in-law and a weary expr
ession from his wife, and wandered back out again. He thought, a couple of times, about asserting his rights more aggressively, confronting William directly, but this situation was placing more than enough strain on Nina’s shoulders as it was, and he wasn’t about to make it any worse for her than he already had.
At around five o’clock, while he was sitting on the window seat in Zoë’s nursery trying to absorb a little of her enviable baby calm, Nick heard raised voices and recognized tones of unmistakable anger and distress in Nina’s.
‘Enough,’ he said, and headed downstairs.
Zoë began crying at the precise moment that Nick reached the hall and Nina came out of the living room. She was wearing cotton slacks, a pale blue T-shirt and sneakers. Home clothes, nice and easy and cool. She looked anything but cool.
‘What’s happening?’ Nick asked.
‘Nothing.’ Nina put one foot on the first step. ‘Zoë needs feeding.’
‘I’ve fed her, and bathed her. I heard yelling.’
‘We weren’t yelling.’
‘As near as damnit,’ Nick said.
Nina ran a hand through her long, loose hair. ‘Nick, try not to get too angry with him,’ she said, tiredly.
‘You seem angry enough for both of us.’
‘I’m allowed. He’s my father.’ Her eyes pleaded with him.
‘I won’t get mad,’ he said softly. ‘Do I take it I’m persona grata in our living room now?’ He couldn’t help the irony.
‘Dad wants to talk to you.’ Her embarrassment showed.
‘Oh, happy day.’
‘Nick, darling, please take it easy.’
It was the first time she’d called him ‘darling’ since Thursday. It wasn’t much, but it was – he hoped – something.
William looked tired to the point of haggardness, but Nick found it hard to dredge up much in the way of sympathy for him. If this undisguised antipathy had only begun when he’d learned about Nick’s encounters with the SFPD, it might have been understandable, but as it was, Ford had been hostile and suspicious towards him from the day they’d first met.
‘I’m going to tell you what I told Nina,’ he said from his armchair, attacking as soon as Nick entered the living room.
Nick held onto his temper. ‘A drink, William?’ he offered.
‘It’s too early for me.’ Crisp and cold.
‘I was thinking of coffee.’ Nick sat down on the sofa. ‘So what is it you told Nina?’
Ford had on his hard-nosed, air-force expression. ‘That whatever she chooses to think about you, I’m still a believer that there’s no smoke without fire.’
Nick looked right at him. ‘What “smoke” exactly are you talking about here, William? Heroin, child molestation, or attempted murder – or all three?’
The dislike in Ford’s green eyes intensified. ‘I don’t find the attempted murder of one of my daughters especially funny.’
‘Nor do I,’ Nick said. ‘I think you know that.’
‘Maybe I do, maybe I don’t.’ Ford sat forward. ‘Here’s my point of view. The drugs thing on its own could have been an error, maybe just a mistake, or maybe something spawned by someone’s malice. The child business – in isolation – might be a disgusting invention, too – except that there’s no escaping those photographs. You were playing with those children.’
‘They threw a ball to me.’ Nick felt the suppressed anger heating up in his stomach. ‘I threw it back.’
‘Those children were naked, man. Which means that at the very least you showed extraordinary lack of judgment.’
‘What Nick showed was innocence.’
Nick and William both turned around. Nina stood in the doorway, holding Zoë in her arms. She came in and sat down on the sofa beside Nick, and that small declaration of solidarity sent a wave of gratitude washing over him. At least, for now, thank God, she was by his side.
‘He’s a grown man,’ Ford persisted. ‘Those little children were the innocent ones.’
‘Nothing happened to the children, for heaven’s sake,’ Nick said.
‘Maybe not,’ Ford allowed, ‘though we only really have your word for that.’ He paused. ‘But even if we forget the photos and the drugs, we can’t – I certainly can’t and won’t – forget about Phoebe.’
‘No one’s actually accused Nick of having anything to do with hurting Phoebe,’ Nina pointed out. ‘And if they did,’ she went on hotly, ‘I’d tell them they were crazy – just as crazy as they were accusing him of keeping drugs in our home or of being some kind of pervert.’
‘Can he prove his innocence?’ William demanded.
Zoë started crying again, and her cheeks grew red.
‘Shall I take her?’ Nick asked Nina, ignoring Ford.
‘Please.’ She passed the baby over.
‘If all this is just a pack of lies’ – William stood up and glowered down at them both – ‘then why did the police believe those ‘lies’ enough to question Nick three separate times?’
‘Twice,’ Nina amended. ‘With the drugs thing, they just searched the house.’
‘Just.’ William loaded the word with scorn.
‘They’ve had to question me,’ Nick answered, staying steady, ‘because someone’s been feeding them false information.’
‘And you claim this someone is that woman you used to know – this Holly person.’
‘I’ve told the police I think there’s more than a good chance it’s Holly Bourne.’ Nick propped Zoë against his left shoulder and stroked her head and back, and her crying promptly ceased. ‘Good girl,’ he murmured into her tiny ear. ‘Good, sweet baby.’
‘Sounds like hogwash to me.’ William’s eyes glittered. ‘And if it isn’t, I’d like to know what you could have done to make that kind of an enemy out of a woman.’
Nick glanced at Nina, who shook her head slightly but decisively. The confirmation that she had not told her father the whole ugly story warmed Nick again.
‘Well?’ William hectored.
‘Dad, what happened in the past between Nick and Holly is none of your business,’ Nina said.
‘If it’s put my daughter – your sister – in the hospital, I’d say that makes it very much my business.’ William turned impatiently away and walked over to the window, gazing out, for a few moments, at the street. ‘If you want my opinion,’ he said slowly, measuring his words carefully, ‘I think that until he can prove his innocence, your husband should have the decency to move out.’
‘Excuse me?’ Nick said, startled.
‘Over my dead body.’ Nina’s voice was quiet but steely. ‘Nick has done nothing wrong. He has nothing to prove.’
For the second time in two days, Nick felt like a stunned boxer on the ropes. Zoë wriggled against his shoulder and dribbled on his T-shirt, but he made no move to wipe either her face or his clothes.
‘And what about Zoë?’ Ford asked.
‘What about Zoë?’ Nick asked straight back.
‘You have to consider your child’s safety,’ William said to Nina.
‘Please don’t ignore me, William.’ Nick’s voice cut through the air. ‘I’d like to know just exactly what you’re suggesting?’
Nina stood up, her hands balled into fists down by her sides. ‘If you are suggesting,’ she said to her father, ‘that Nick would ever harm so much as a hair on Zoë’s head, then you may as well leave right now and don’t bother coming back.’
‘Take it easy, sweetheart.’ Nick got up too, still holding the baby.
‘I mean it,’ Nina said.
‘Aren’t you lucky to have such a loyal wife,’ William said nastily.
‘Yes, I am,’ Nick agreed, as Zoë squirmed in his arms.
‘I suppose I’d better go back to my hotel,’ the other man said.
‘I suppose you had,’ Nick agreed.
‘Dad, you’re the lucky one round here.’ Nina was close to tears of rage and frustration. ‘I can’t believe Nick’s being so reasonable.’
‘He’s your father,’ Nick said, still holding tightly to the baby. ‘If he weren’t, I’d probably have decked him by now.’
‘Just try it,’ William said.
‘For God’s sake, stop it, Dad,’ Nina insisted furiously. ‘This whole thing is getting out of control – I wouldn’t blame Nick if he did hit you.’
Nick saw that she was trembling violently.
‘I think maybe you should leave now,’ he told Ford quietly.
William looked at Nina. ‘It’s not my intention to hurt you, my darling.’ He made a move towards her, put out a hand to touch her arm, but she stepped away out of his reach. The heavy furrowing on his face grew deeper. ‘I’m sorry, Nina,’ he said.
‘It’s not me you should be apologizing to,’ she said.
‘I disagree.’
‘Then there’s nothing more to be said, is there?’
And Nina turned away from her father.
William flew back to Arizona next morning and a semblance of normality returned to the house on Antonia Street. Except that on both Saturday and Sunday night, Nick found Nina in Zoë’s nursery at around three in the morning, weeping over the baby’s crib. She tried her best to fob him off, said she was having bad dreams, claimed she was simply overtired from the general strain and not sleeping properly – but when the same thing happened again in the early hours of Monday morning, Nick knew he was going to have to drag the truth out of her.
‘This has to stop, Nina.’
He stood behind her at the crib and put his arms around her, and she let him hold her but would not turn around.
‘I’m going to ask you something,’ he said, ‘and I want you to answer me honestly.’ He went on holding her, needing the feel of her against him, even though tension and fear were tautening every muscle in his body. ‘Nina, do you want me to move out for a while?’
‘No.’ She pulled away, shocked, barely managing to keep her voice low because of the baby. ‘Nick, of course I don’t want you to leave. That’s the last thing I want.’
‘I don’t mean just because of your father,’ Nick said. ‘I mean because of the things I told you.’
‘I know what you mean,’ Nina said. ‘I told you, your going anywhere is the last thing I want or need.’
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